


From Russia with Love

by Laura_Sinele



Series: Fictober 2019 drabbles [23]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Bickering, Cold War, Cooking, Flirting, M/M, Napoleon is a Tease, Poor Illya, Post-Canon, pirozhki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 23:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_Sinele/pseuds/Laura_Sinele
Summary: Illya never sees it coming when Napoleon fires a flirty retort.





	From Russia with Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fictober19 prompt 25: "I could really eat something".

Their lodgings were in the attic of a centenary building near the Old Town, in Prague. Their mission was locating an arms dealer working to supply both the USSR and the USA with the, allegedly, ultimate nuclear weapon. Miss Teller was having a blast with all the bickering and ranting between her colleagues.

Kuryakin was definitely attached to Mother Russia, and he was not amused by the idea of his government being fooled, but he had mixed feelings about interfering with their plans, even if he was working to frustrate the USA plans too. Meanwhile, Solo was a man who served no king other than the one holding his leash, and this was currently the MI6. But, just to mess with Kuryakin, he was making an obnoxious display of patriotism that had the Russian baring his teeth at anything he said and the German laughing under her breath at their banter. Every single time, Kuryakin realised only two or three comebacks late that Solo was taking the piss. And every single time he fell for it again, as if he could not ignore none of Solo’s remarks.

Teller was supposed to infiltrate the inner circle of the arms dealer, claiming to have a copy of her father’s rocket plans. Solo accompanied her as her bodyguard. He had to plant as many bugs as he could before being dismissed. Teller would now live at the Palace Hotel, and the boys, as she called them, would stay at the shabby one room apartment, monitoring her every move.

Solo came back from leaving Teller at her rooms after meeting their objective. The evening air was cold and the stairs many, leaving him panting slightly. As he entered the loft, he took in a gulp of air and his mouth watered to the smell. Then, his brain registered Kuryakin’s profile, stooped over the small wood-burning stove. He let out a delighted hum to make his presence known.

“Pirozhki?”, he asked. Kuryakin looked at him with his usual overly serious expression and nodded once.

“I just finished preparing the filling”.

“Well, I could really eat something…”, said Solo, taking a fork and motioning to dip it into the pot. Kuryakin slapped his hand.

“No. Wait until they’re finished”, he admonished.

“I am starving here, Peril”

“Heat some canned beans, Cowboy”, he replied without looking up at Solo.

Solo walked to the window as he undid his coat. He removed his gloves and took a glance at the city below. Then he breathed a dramatic sigh.

“I could eat a whole Russian spy”, he mumbled.

Behind him, a clatter of pots, pans and cutlery told him that his seemingly innocent comment had reached the target and produced the desired effect. It was going to be an interesting night.


End file.
